Bitchy Giggles

Egad! It seems that a childhood illness I once suffered may have made a late-life return. The doctors agree that it looks like tuberculosis. That is the good news, assuming that we can agree, TB is preferable to the big C.

This is the point in my once workaholic creative life where I am trying to convince myself that slowing down is not so very awful.

So I’m fiercely independent. So I can’t sit still. I’m a doer. I do have a list of tasks that constantly self-generates.

I’m wracked with maker-guilt at the measly amount of blog posts I’ve managed this month but my body demands that I take a frickin’ break.

I spent the summer arguing with myself about when I was going to chill. I planned long hours of peaceful reflection, film viewing, hours of devouring all the unread books I’ve got stashed but his leopard is finding it nearly impossible to change it’s spots.

I am impatient with myself. Work and care taking happen a little bit at a time and that will have to be okay. I will get better at knowing my limits.